Banishment
by gypsywriter135
Summary: It's America's Annual Thanksgiving Day Party and Prussia's not too happy with the seating arrangements... Rated for language.


Happy Thanksgiving, my fellow Americans! :D

And to those of you that don't celebrate Thanksgiving... HELLO! Happy Day! :D

And on to my note! So, if you're a "Hetalia" fan, you've probably seen that Prussia is now a micronation! :D The New Prussian Empire! :D (Well, at least that's what Wikipedia told me, so it could still be complete bogus, but I like to believe that's true.)

Anyways, since I discovered this exciting bit of news, the holiday season approaching, and staying up late to converse with my very own Romano, we came up with this idea! I immediately jumped on the bandwagon, and this was born! So even if you don't celebrate Thanksgiving, enjoy the awesomeness that is the New Prussian Empire! :D

**Disclaimer: "Hetalia" is not mine... BUT I DO OWN THE MOVIE NOW! :D**

Also, I didn't proofread this... at all. Ignore any and all typos. That is all...

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><p>There was a crash that sounded from the kitchen, making the nations in the other room all snap their heads in that direction. A string of curses followed, and another clash after that.<p>

"What the bloody hell are you doing in there, you twat?" England cried, standing up and smoothing out his suit.

"No worries!" came America's voice from the kitchen. The sound of pans hitting the floor, a splat, and a small yelp came after. "Fuck!"

Rolling his eyes at the other nations of the world, the blonde started in the direction of the kitchen. "By the time you get that fucking bird ready, it's going to be Christmas." He was about halfway across the room. "Just let me-"

His path was suddenly blocked by a very annoying Frenchman…

"Mon cher," France said, spreading his arms out to either side of him, "I do not think that young America needs any help." His smile was a little strained, and he glanced over the Briton's shoulder at the other nations sitting in America's living room. The world looked relieved that someone had stepped in and prevented the blonde from trying to _cook_ something.

"Are you deaf?" England cried, trying to get around France to no avail. "He sounds like he's murdering a scone in there!"

"Ah, you would know how that sounds, wouldn't you?"

"Why you!"

The inevitable England-France brawl had commenced. Though, honestly, everyone was surprised that they had lasted as long as they had. Being forced to attend America's Annual Thanksgiving Day Meal was bad enough. Everyone trying to get along without murdering the others was even worse.

Take Greece and Turkey, for example. Egypt was seated between the two on the large couch, trying to melt into the cushions as the other two nations had a glaring contest over his head. Italy Romano was trying to fend off a clingy Spain, Italy Veneziano eating a huge bowl of pasta on his other side. Russia was sitting in a corner by himself, smiling a creepy grin at everyone.

"It'll be ready soon!" America finally emerged from the kitchen, a large American Flag apron tied around his waist. He had a suit on underneath and his face was covered in splotches of flour and a light, goopy substance.

"Just having some trouble with the gravy. And the cranberry sauce… It's not settling properly…"

England rolled his eyes, giving up trying to force his way into the kitchen. He glared at the American and strode up to the tall nation, He licked his thumb and gently rubbed the mess off the other male's face.

America recoiled in horror. "What the fuck?" he yelped, taking his own hands and furiously rubbing his face.

Realizing what he had just done, England turned a deep shade of scarlet. He immediately retracted his hand. "I… uh…"

"Oh hon hon hon," came France's laugh. "It seems as though-"

"You finish that sentence and you're dead, frog!"

"I was just going to say-"

Any conversation was cut off as the front door that lead into the hallway next to the living room was kicked open and Prussia stomped in. Germany followed closely behind, looking frustrated at his older brother.

"The awesome me has arrived!" the white-haired man exclaimed, shrugging out of his coat and throwing it over the shoulder of the couch. It landed on Italy's head. "The party can now begin!"

"I apologize for your door, America," Germany said to the dirty blonde. He snatched up Prussia's coat from a flailing Italy and took his own off, hanging them both up in the hall closet with the rest of the worlds.

"It's cool, dudes!" America replied, flashing a smile at the brothers. "What took you so long? Even Russia got here earlier than you, and his fat ass takes forever to haul around!"

A gasp went through the room, but America seemed to not realize it. Russia's creepy smile only increased as his violet eyes locked on the young nation.

"…Soon…" he muttered.

"Yes, well, we would have been here sooner if _someone_," Germany shot a glare to Prussia, who was busy ignoring him to talk with France in the corner, "hadn't insisted on stopping at every single rest stop to get a souvenir…"

Prussia looked up at this and smirked. "I needed something to remember America by!"

"From every state?" Germany snapped.

His brother only snickered.

Rolling his eyes, Germany looked back at his host. "I'm sorry if we're late," he said.

"Not at all!" America replied. "Almost done! Just take a seat and relax!"

Nodding, Germany walked over to the couch and sat down next to Italy, who seemed overly excited by the blonde's seating decision. Of course, the German had no other choice when the small man's cheerful "Germany! Germany! Sit next to me! Germany! Germany!" chant echoed through the room.

It was another thirty minutes before America called them all to the dining room adjacent to the living room. Every single country made their way through the house.

In the dining room was a huge, long table. Each place was set with matching dining ware and lit candles adorning the white tablecloth every few places. Piles of Thanksgiving food decorated the entire place. Each plate had a small piece of paper on it, a nations name written on it in golden cursive. America stood at the head of the table.

"Just find your nametag and take a seat!" he cried, smiling. "But don't eat yet! We have to say grace and then I have to cut the turkeys!"

"Turkeys?" England asked as the world walked down the sides of the table to their respective seats. "As in, more than one?"

America shrugged. "It's a big world to feed."

It took a while, but with minimal fighting, everyone was soon seated.

Well, everyone but a certain albino…

"Yo!" he frowned at their host. "You forgot the awesome me!"

America blinked. "No… No I didn't…"

"Then where the hell am I supposed to sit?" Prussia gestured to the fully seated table. He was standing behind Germany, who was also frowning as he looked at the table. Surely America hadn't forgotten his brother…?

The American's eyes lit up and he jumped from his chair. "Silly me!" he exclaimed. He quickly walked over to his guest. "You're sitting over here!" He slung an arm over Prussia shoulders and led him to the room next to the dining room. Germany looked after them for a moment before standing and following. Spain, France, Austria, Hungary, and both Italy's also got up to trail behind.

The scene before made them all stop dead in their tracks.

There was a small, tiny table, equally as small chairs sitting in the middle of the room. A small turkey sat in the middle of the table, and a tray of other food was on a folding table next to it. Crayons adorned the white paper tablecloth, complete with red cups of juice.

Sitting at the table were Sealand, Wy, Seborga, and the Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus. The four children stared at the adults from their positions around the table. The other nations stared back, and Prussia turned a red eye to America, expression unreadable.

"Why am I here?" he asked. Behind him, he could hear Hungary snicker.

America, for his part, looked honestly puzzled. "What? You're here to celebrate Thanksgiving with me, of course!"

Prussia looked at him again but didn't say anything. America removed his arm from the man's shoulders.

"Oh, Prussia…" Hungary sang, and the albino turned to look at the girl. She was hiding laughter behind her hand, and a quick sweep of the room told him that everyone, even Germany, and save America, found this whole situation very amusing.

Of course, he wasn't sure what the "situation" in question was in the first place.

"Look, I don't get what joke you're playing," he said, eyes narrowing, "but I don't get it. I'm hungry, and I just want to eat!"

"Then take a seat and dig in!" America smiled, gesturing the empty plastic chair that was next to Sealand.

A light bulb went off in Prussia's mind, and he immediately turned on the dirty blonde.

"What the fuck?" he practically yelled, face become red from anger. He pointed to the main table in the other room. "Why the fuck do I not have a seat out there with the rest of the world? I shouldn't have to sit here in munchkin land! Make room for me over there!"

"But-" America tried to reason with him, but the other man gave him no chance.

"Do you have any idea who I am?" Prussia screeched. He opened his mouth to continue, when Austria answered for him.

"You are the New Prussian Empire," the brunette chuckled, smirking.

Prussia pointed a finger at him. "Exactly! I am the New Prussian Empire! And I will not be treated this way!"

"Bruder…" Germany smiled, blue eyes dancing with mirth. "Do you know what that means?"

The older man scoffed. "Of course I know," he snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. "It means I'm a nation again! Which is why I was finally officially invited to this damn thing instead of having to sneak in!"

"You sneaked in the past twenty years?" America frowned.

"That's not quite right," France snickered, clinging to Spain for support. The Italy's were hiding behind Hungary and Austria, but their laughter could still be heard.

"You see, amigo," Spain smiled, green eyes alight, "though you may be a nation one more, you're not technically a _true_ nation…"

Prussia glared at him. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"Bruder, the New Prussian Empire is a _micro_nation…"

At this, everyone except America and Prussia burst into loud laughter. America frowned in confusion, and Prussia's face became red once more, this time in embarrassment. He glared at the laughing nations and then America, before glaring at the small table of micronations beside them.

Said micronations were watching quietly, Sealand looking angered at having the grown ups interrupting their time. Wy and Cyprus had gone back to coloring, and Seborga looked positively bored at the whole affair.

It was quite some time before the adults finally composed themselves enough to speak.

"Are you done now?" Prussia muttered, arms crossed over his chest again, head titled away from everyone. The tips of his ears were still red.

"Sorry, Bruder," Germany chuckled, wiping the tears from his eyes. At his feet lay Italy, who had fallen over his glee. Spain and France were hanging off an equally giddy Romano, and Hungary had fallen to sit on the floor. Austria was bent double, clutching at his stomach.

Prussia frowned.

"What the bloody hell is going on in here?"

The group turned to see England poking his head around the corner. He glared at them all.

"I know that this must be a wonderful party, but the rest of us are over here starving," he scolded. "So if you're quite finished, we'd like to get this thing started so that we can all go home!"

"Well, I just-" America tried to reason, but Hungary finally stood and wiped her skirt off.

"We'll be there in a minute," she told the blonde, still smiling.

England ran an eye over everyone in the small room before rolling his eyes. "Wankers…" he muttered, and went back to the dining room.

"I am not sitting here," Prussia told America once the Briton had left.

"Why?" America frowned, looking confused again. "The micronations always eat here…"

"I don't care!" Prussia cried. "I am not sitting with these little crumb crunchers!"

"Hey!" Sealand cried.

"Bruder…" Germany warned, casting a quick, worried look to the American superpower.

The older man whipped to glare at his brother. "No, West! I will not! I will-"

Germany crossed over the Prussia and grabbed his wrist before dragging him over to a corner in the room. Muffled German could be heard as the two conversed, Prussia gesturing madly multiple times. Finally, the two seemed to come to an agreement, but when they made their way back over to the small group, Prussia still didn't look too happy.

"Let's go," Germany said, his brother kicking the empty child's chair aside before sitting moodily down in it. "We don't want to keep them waiting any longer."

America cast a slightly worried look at Prussia, who had taken to piling food on his plate, his long legs coming up to his chin as he tried to fit under the table. The albino glared at Wy when she reached for a crayon that was sitting next to his plate.

"He'll be fine," Germany assured him, gesturing to the door, blonde eyebrows raised.

"Uh… sure…" America said, but followed the rest of the nations out. Germany brought up the rear, saying something to his brother in German before leaving.

There was no answer back.

"About bloody time," England murmured when they took their seats at the table. "What the fuck were you doing? Creating a new treaty?"

"Something like that…" Romano snickered, taking his place between his brother and Spain. Germany sat on the other side of Italy, France on the other side of Spain. Austria and Hungary took their respective seats, and America returned to the head of the table.

"Alright, dudes!" he grinned, looking around at the other nations of the world. "First, let's say grace!"

And even though more than half the world couldn't agree on a religion, they all bowed their heads or folded their hands, fear of angering the superpower keeping them from actually saying out loud.

Arguing broke out from the other room after America cut the turkey, and Germany went to see what it was about. He found Prussia standing, holding a bowl of mashed potatoes out of Wy's reach.

"Bruder, what are you doing?" Germany sighed. He should have known better than to leave the older nation without adult supervision.

Prussia glared at his brother. "Little brat was hogging all the potatoes!"

"I'll bring more, just give the girl the bowl back…"

"Fine…"

True to his word, Germany left and returned with a bowl of potatoes just for Prussia. However, he walked in on another problem.

This time, Prussia was chasing around Sealand.

"Prussia!"

The chase skidded to a halt.

"He stole my beer!"

Germany face-palmed. "If I bring you another one, you have to promise to not make a peep the rest of the meal."

Prussia grinned. "Sure thing, West!" He gave his brother the thumbs up.

When Germany returned _this_ time, Prussia and Seborga were fighting over the red crayon.

"Bruder…"

"I had it first!"

"Do you want the beer or not?"

"… Ja…"

Prussia let the crayon go, sticking his tongue out at the small child. Seborga returned it in kind, then resumed coloring. The older man looked pleadingly at his brother.

"Don't do this to me, West," he pleaded. "This is shameful! I'm the awesome Prussia!"

"Bruder…" Germany sighed, and kneeled down to be level with the other. "You promised that you would not upset America…"

"I know!" Prussia threw up his arms. "But this is embarrassing! I'm a freaking adult! I do not belong here with these brats!"

Wy stuck her tongue out at him.

"If you behave for the rest of the day, I'll buy you that video game you've been drooling over…"

Prussia immediately perked up. "Really?"

Germany nodded.

The other male grinned. "Okay!" He reached for the beer Germany had brought and took a swig. "I'm holding you to that!"

Germany smiled. "I'm sure you will."

He stood, ruffling Prussia's hair as he did so. When he turned to glance back before leaving the room, Prussia was stuffing food in his mouth as fast as he could. He was glaring at Northern Cyprus, who was doing the same thing; it seemed like they were in a contest to see who could finish first.

Shaking his head, Germany continued to back to the dining room.

000000000000000

It was several hours later that the first nations began leaving. The rest had returned to America's living room, where they all lounged around, stomachs too full to do much else. Many nursed a beer or a glass of wine. Italy had his head resting on Germany's shoulder, sleeping.

It wasn't until Sweden and Finland left with a sleeping Sealand that Germany realized that his brother was missing; he hadn't heard a single peep from him since he had brought his brother the beer. There weren't many nations left. In fact, Spain and Romano had left quite a while ago, and Austria and Hungary were trying to rouse Italy so they could take him home. Northern Cyprus was curled in Turkey's lap, and Wy and Seborga had left almost and hour ago.

When he had checked on his brother after dinner to bring him a beer, Prussia had glared at him before going back to moodily pushing things around on his plate.

That had been almost four hours ago…

Once Italy was pried from his shoulder, Germany sluggishly got up and made his way to the room the micronations had been in.

He blinked in surprise when he saw his brother, knees nearly touching his chin, furiously scribbling on the paper tablecloth with a red crayon.

"Everything okay, Bruder?" he asked.

Prussia looked up. He nodded. "Ja!" was his only response before he returned to his previous activity.

Raising an eyebrow, Germany remained where he was. "Are you ready to go?" he asked.

Prussia hummed. "Gimme a few more minutes. I'll come get you when I'm ready."

Germany shrugged, but went back to his previous spot. Denmark, Norway, Turkey, France, England, and Russia were still there, so it wasn't like he had to leave right away.

However, when another passed and Turkey and Russia took their leave, Germany was beginning to worry… but only slightly.

When Denmark and Norway left another hour after that, Germany couldn't wait any longer. His brother had told him only a few more minutes, but it was well over that. He stood up and nearly fell over when he took a step. It felt like he had just… bumped into someone…?

Looking around, he found no one except France, America, and England, so he shrugged and went to find his brother.

Poor Canada watched him leave, a seemingly permanent frown on his face.

Prussia was in the same spot he was a few hours ago, still coloring furiously.

"Bruder, it's time to go," Germany told him, his tone saying that there was no room for discussion this time.

The older man looked up. "But West, I-"

"Nein," Germany shook his head. "We are leaving..."

Prussia frowned. "But I'm not finished yet!"

"I don't care!" Germany said. "We have to work tomorrow."

Prussia pouted.

"Get your coat and get in the car."

Grumbling, the albino carefully maneuvered himself out of the small chair. His knees cracked when he stood, and he sort of hobbled past his brother. Sighing, Germany ran a tired hand over his face before stepping into the room further to look at what the man had been drawing for hours.

On the tablecloth was a very detailed comic of the rise of the New Prussian Empire. It told of how he took over the world with his army of chicks, Russia ending up in a cage surrounded by flames in what Germany could only assume was Hell. A crudely drawn Austria seemed to be serving Prussia, Hungary making what seemed to be a sandwich in what looked like a kitchen.

Other countries were present too. The two Italy's were easily recognizable, as was Japan and France. Spain was a little harder to find, but there he was, drawn in a tomato patch.

Germany scanned his eyes over the paper, amused. He found himself, sitting on a throne next to Prussia himself, and couldn't help but smile. Glancing at the door, he reached down and quickly ripped the drawing away from the other stick figures drawn by Sealand and Wy and the others. He folded it and slipped it into his back pocket before heading after his brother.

Prussia may be an adult, but he sure did act like a micronation…

"PRUSSIA!"

If the silly string covering America's living room was any indication…

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><p>Hehe... Oh, Prussia. I LOVE YOU!<p>

I was going to end with some fluffy German bros. scene, but decided to stick with my attempt at humor. Just thinking of Prussia being forced to sit at the kiddy table makes me giggle, because I remember when I was little and had to be banished to the kiddy table when my older cousin got to sit at the grown up table... I was so mad!

I also remember the glorious day that I was allowed to sit with my aunts and uncles... Much rejoicing! Especially since my little brother and cousin had to sit at the kid table still XD. Best day ever!

The New Prussian Empire demands reviews as payment for reading this story...


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